Page 13 of The Rebel Billionaire

But a futon . . . a futon was perfect for an office, especially one with a full bath right next door. It could be an extra guest room, I reasoned, ignoring the fact that there were plenty of bedrooms on the second floor of the house and any family guests would just stay with Aiden, at WintersHouse.

Never mind that. A futon waspractical.

That was my story and I was sticking with it, especially since there happened to be a futon store on the other side of the shopping center and for an extra fee, they did same-daydelivery.

Fate had wanted me to cut my hair, and now it seemed that fate wanted me to buy afuton.

SoIdid.

See? Just a little bitcrazy.

CHAPTERFOUR

CHARLIE

Pryingthe rotten boards off the front porch was both easier and more difficult than I'd anticipated. The wood was in such bad shape that it came up without too much effort, which was a goodthing.

I wasn't exactlymusclegirl.

Unfortunately, once I'd gotten the boards up, they left rusted, bent nails behind, each of which I'd have to remove before we could lay a newfloor.

I could pry some of them out with the hammer. On a few, the heads popped off, leaving me with only a spike of rusty nail to work with. Also, as I removed the rotten boards, I started running out of places tostand.

The ground beneath the front porch was uneven and littered with decades of trash. On top of that, every time I managed to pull up a board, I had to lug it to the front yard for the contractor's crew to haul offlater.

It was messy, slow, and frustrating. Seeing the change to the front of the house made it all worthwhile. It looked raw and unfinished without the decking there, but my imagination filled in the blanks and I could envision how it would look when itwasdone.

In a way, I was working on the house to fill time. I needed something to do. I was used to work. I'd been working since I was eighteen. A part of my mind couldn't help worrying over the job I’d left atWintersInc.

It's not that I thought I was irreplaceable, but I'd been in the middle of so many projects. Who was taking over for me? Did they know all the details? I'd had an assistant, and the people who worked with me were all very good at their jobs, but in the past, every time I left the office during the day, my phone rangnonstop.

Today, my phone wassilent.

I won't deny that the silent phone was a relief. And that relief was annoying since it seemed to prove Aidenright.

Even if hewasright, even if I was happier out of the office than in it, it hadn't been his place to make that decision for me. I was a grown woman and I'd been working my ass off for him foryears.

I'd earned that job, and taking it from me on a whim based on some paternalistic impulse to do what was best for me, without asking me what I wanted for myself—it wasbullshit.

I was caught between relief that I didn't have to deal with work and frustration that Aiden had yanked me out of everything I've been working on and kicked me out of myownlife.

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to handle this. I knew I'd make up with Aiden eventually. He was my brother, the closest thing to a father figure I'd had since I was a child, the glue that held our shattered familytogether.

No question he was being an ass. I was completely justified in being pissed at him. But I wouldn't be able to hold onto my anger for long. Our family had been through too much to let a grudge drive usapartnow.

I'd forgive him. But not yet. Not when I still wanted to punch him in his arrogant,controllingface.

I was adrift without my job, but was I really going to fix this place up on my own? I remembered telling Lucas that I was. And in truth, it wasn't entirely on my own. I did have a contractor, and he was coordinating the aspects of the job I couldn't handle, which was mostofit.

So far, he'd overseen the new roof, moved around the walls on the second floor, and was in the process of overseeing the new plumbing andelectricalwork.

All of which was way above my pay grade. He had a crew showing up in a few days to lay fresh planking on my front porch, and drywall for the upstairs was already on theschedule.

But I was going to do what I could. This was my house, and if I couldn't do my real job anymore, I had to do something productive, even if that meant hauling wood and strippingpaint.

When I had most of the rotten boards pulled off the front porch, I decided to take a break. I was soaked with sweat and needed a shower. Before I could clean up, I still had a few things from my shopping trip stuffed into my car that I needed tobringin.

I took a long look at the decade-old sedan in my driveway. It was still in good shape, though it had well over 100,000 miles on it. The car had only been a few years old when Aiden had given it to me on my sixteenthbirthday.